


Quid Pro Quo

by yavannauk



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: First Time, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-14
Updated: 2009-07-14
Packaged: 2017-11-25 08:23:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yavannauk/pseuds/yavannauk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin has lost count of the number of times that doing Arthur a favour has landed him in the stocks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quid Pro Quo

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to Barbara for betaing, this was originally available in the Pendracon convention book.

Merlin has lost count of the number of times that doing Arthur a favour has landed him in the stocks. He really should learn to start saying no, but when Arthur leans in and tells him how much he appreciates what Merlin is doing for him and, honest to god, batting his eyelashes at him, Merlin is helpless to resist. He's sure this isn't what the dragon had in mind when it told Merlin his destiny lay with Arthur, though.

Fortunately, Gaius had been out visiting a patient when Merlin came back to their rooms covered in rotten fruit and vegetables on this occasion. Merlin's sure Gaius is going to do himself an injury if he rolls his eyes at him many more times and he's grateful to be able to pick the detritus out of his hair in peace, scrubbing his face and hands clean without the accompaniment of Gaius tutting away in the background. It's really not so bad once you get used to it, and Merlin has had plenty of opportunity to become accustomed to the experience.

Walking into his room, Merlin pulls off his stained tunic and adds it to the growing pile of similarly dirty laundry. He's digging through the things strewn across his bed for something at least vaguely clean to put on when he hears the sound of a throat being cleared behind him. Spinning round, Merlin finds himself face to face with Arthur. He flushes when he realises Arthur is giving him a frankly appraising look.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sire," Merlin says hurriedly. "I was just looking for something clean to wear."

Arthur, damn him, smirks at this. "Yes, I heard you found yourself in the stocks again... sorry about that."

Merlin quirks an eyebrow at the manifest lack of sincerity in Arthur's tone.

"And we know whose fault that really was," he mutters under his breath, still casting around for fresh clothing. When he looks up again, Arthur is much closer than he was before.

"I know. I'm in your debt - again, Merlin," Arthur says. "I really should show my appreciation more often."

"No, it's all right, really," Merlin says, flustered.

However, his words don't deter Arthur from moving nearer still and watching Merlin with a focused gaze. Merlin swallows and wraps his arms around his naked torso self-consciously. The cupboard containing the rest of his clothes is just across the room, but Arthur is standing between it and Merlin.

"Ah, if you wouldn't mind," Merlin says, trying to sidle past him.

"Maybe I do mind," Arthur replies. Infuriatingly, he steps back so that he's leaning against the cupboard door.

It's clear from the hint of amusement in his eyes that Arthur knows exactly what he's doing. Merlin feels a flash of annoyance at being toyed with like this, but oddly he doesn't get any sense of malicious intent from Arthur.

"Was there something you wanted, sire?" Merlin asks as the impasse continues. "If not..." He nods at the cupboard behind Arthur.

"Am I in your way?" Arthur enquires with an insouciant grin. "Why didn't you say?" He moves just far enough to the side to allow Merlin access to his goal.

Merlin narrows his eyes at Arthur, but darts forward and pulls open the door, reaching in for a fresh tunic. His hand is on the stack of linens when he feels the heat of Arthur's presence at his back.

"I didn't answer your question, did I?" Arthur says, his words low and intimate in Merlin's ear.

"Question?" Merlin's annoyed at the way his voice suddenly seems to squeak.

"You asked if there was anything I wanted," Arthur replies. "And I believe there is."

"Really?" Merlin finds it difficult to keep his tone steady. "What might that be?"

Arthur's hands are warm and strong as they settle on Merlin's shoulders.

"You," is the simple response as Arthur uses his grip to turn Merlin until they're facing one another.

"I'm already your servant," Merlin says with a slightly shaky laugh.

He knows that isn't what Arthur means, but Merlin wants him to spell out exactly what his intentions are. Arthur had talked about showing his appreciation earlier, was this what he'd had in mind?

Merlin's head is telling him that he should be trying to get out of this situation before it goes too far. Other, more traitorous, parts of his body are urging a different response, especially when Arthur's hands go exploring, sword-roughened fingers brushing across a nipple. Merlin's head thuds back against the shelf behind him as he bites off a moan.

Arthur laughs softly, and again there's no mockery in it. "Yes, I suppose you are, but really, if a servant was all that I wanted don't you think I'd have found one who was rather less of an idiot by now?"

"Ah..." Merlin really has no idea how to answer that question. Though, when he stops to think about it, most of the other servants around the castle don't exactly get treated by their masters the way that Arthur treats him - except, perhaps, for Gwen. "Oh," he says finally, eyes widening. "Oh!"

"Very articulate, Merlin," Arthur observes sardonically. "Can I assume that we're on the same page at last?"

"Yes!" Merlin says eagerly, earning another snort of laughter from Arthur. "So...?"

The questions that are on the tip of his tongue are stolen away when Arthur leans in and presses his mouth to Merlin's. Merlin has been on the receiving end of chaste kisses brushed against his lips and cheeks, but nothing like this. Arthur's mouth is hot and demanding, giving no quarter. Merlin doesn't know quite what to do with his hands at first, but then he slides them under Arthur's jacket, splaying them across his broad back. Arthur seems to take that as encouragement and strokes his own hands over Merlin's bare skin, rough and possessive.

Arthur has him crowded against the open cupboard and it's far from comfortable, so Merlin pushes back. It makes Arthur break the kiss and look at him with concern. Merlin likes the flush that's spread across Arthur's cheeks and the wildness in his eyes so he's quick to reassure him.

"I have a perfectly good bed over there," he says.

"Not entirely an idiot," Arthur concedes.

He catches hold of Merlin's wrist and pulls him across the room. With an impatient sweep of his hand Arthur clears the mess of clothes from Merlin's bed before pushing him down onto it. Then he quickly strips off his own jacket and tunic, dropping them carelessly on top of the pile of Merlin's things on the floor.

Merlin props himself up on his elbows and watches appreciatively. He's dressed and undressed Arthur plenty of times, but this is very different and Merlin looks at him with new eyes. He's still admiring the view when Arthur crawls up the length of the bed on hands and knees before using his weight to press Merlin back onto the mattress. Merlin doesn't think he's ever been this hard in his life and when Arthur shifts on top of him he can feel the thick ridge of Arthur's cock against his hip.

Arthur gives a wolfish grin and then grinds against him until Merlin has to bite down hard on his bottom lip to hold in the moans that keep trying to break free. Bending his head, Arthur proceeds to nip at Merlin's neck and all along the line of his collarbone.

"Feel free to scream my name at any time," Arthur says, sounding smug.

"You wouldn't say that if Gaius were in the next room," Merlin shoots back and Arthur pulls away just far enough to give him a dirty look.

"Gah! Never, ever mention Gaius in the middle of sex again, Merlin," Arthur commands. "I may be traumatised for life."

Regardless of his words, Arthur is still hard, so Merlin isn't too concerned. However, he dutifully says, "I promise."

"Good," Arthur replies, before turning his attention back to rutting against Merlin with considerable vigour.

Merlin finds himself missing the feel of Arthur's lips on his own, so he reaches up and tangles his fingers through Arthur's hair. He tugs on the blond strands until Arthur gets the message and leans down so that Merlin can press their mouths together again. This is hardly the courtly kind of love that Merlin would have expected a prince of Camelot to indulge in, but somehow it seems to perfectly suit Arthur. Merlin doesn't think a woman like Morgana would appreciate the rough and tumble of this sort of coupling, but he finds himself revelling in the hard thrusts and the bruising grip of Arthur's hands on his arms. Wanting to give as good as he's getting, Merlin insinuates a thigh between Arthur's legs to feel the heat of his cock as he pushes against it.

"Damn it, Merlin!" Arthur pants into the crook of his neck. "I swear you'll be the death of me." Then he reaches between their bodies and tugs at the lacing of his breeches.

Merlin shoves a hand down to work his own trousers open too. There's no finesse to it and they're getting in each other's way, but eventually they're skin to hot, slick skin. Arthur clasps his hand around him and Merlin returns the favour, feeling the heat of Arthur's cock like a brand against his palm. It only takes a few rough jerks to bring Arthur off, spilling over Merlin's fingers and dripping onto his stomach. The reflexive clutch of Arthur's fist as he comes is enough to push Merlin over the edge as well. His back arches up off the bed as the pleasure rolls through him and while it may not be a scream, Merlin definitely gasps out Arthur's name.

Arthur is a heavy weight as he collapses on top of Merlin, panting hard. His breath gusts against the side of Merlin's face and his fingers are lax around Merlin's spent cock. Deciding that breathing is over-rated, Merlin slides his free hand around Arthur's waist, holding him close. He wouldn't dream of calling it cuddling - at least not within earshot of Arthur - but Merlin rather likes having Arthur's sweaty, satiated body plastered against him.

Eventually, Arthur stirs sufficiently to prop his chin on Merlin's shoulder. His eyes are heavy-lidded and he looks content. "So, on a scale of one to ten how does my apology rate?"

"Whilst your appreciation is duly noted I don't really have enough information to make an assessment yet," Merlin says cheekily, hoping he's not being too daring.

"Hm, I wouldn't want you to make an ill-considered decision," Arthur replies, a slow smile curving his lips. "I shall have to see to it that you have a proper basis for comparison."

"That's most generous of you, sire," Merlin says, feeling a warm glow of happiness spread through him.

Arthur makes a wordless sound of assent before settling himself more comfortably on Merlin's lumpy mattress.

"Rest first," he mumbles against Merlin's skin.

With his body still pinned by Arthur, Merlin uses the tiniest flicker of magic to draw the sheets up from the foot of the bed to cover them. Then he follows Arthur into sleep.


End file.
